


The Things We Do For Steak

by carzula



Series: Roxygen Drabbles/Oneshots [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carzula/pseuds/carzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Roxy Lalonde and honestly, this day could've gone worse you guess</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Do For Steak

As she rode down the street on her bike, Roxy Lalonde decided it had been a good day. Her shift at the local library ended early, she found 20 bucks in her pocket of her shorts and her mom was making steak for dinner. It’s warm out without being too hot; the sun’s shining brightly and the occasional breeze made it the perfect temperature to be outside.

All in all, Roxy felt like life was giving her a nice pat on the back. Life basically was like, “Yeah sorry everything is usually really sucky to borderline mediocre, but you’ve really been a trooper so here you go. Here’s a nice day. You deserve it girl.”

So she’d decided, hell yeah, let’s go for a bike ride. Live it carpe diem style. And since her mom wanted her to pick up the steak from the supermarket anyways, it’d be two birds with one stone. 

So Roxy dusts off her old bike, empties out a backpack to carry the meat and is on her way to the store in ten minutes flat.

–

The supermarket trip is quick and Roxy puts her 28 ounces of NY Strip into her backpack to keep company with the multiple bags of Skittles she bought.

Skittles are the fucking bomb.

With a content smile, she kicks away her bike’s stand and starts her trip back home.  
This leads us to how Roxy Lalonde meets John Egbert.

Maybe life suddenly decided they were being too lenient. Ah shit. Look at that girl. Riding her bike and being a good daughter whilst doing so. Having herself a nice time. Let’s fix that.

And by fixing that, life meant that they’d place a 150 pound dog down the road barreling towards her.

While Roxy is usually chill to the extreme around animals of all sorts, she has the good judgement to turn the HELL around.

She pedals as fast as her legs can manage away from the animal and takes a sharp turn down a random road. She recognizes it to be one of those classic suburban neighborhoods and hopes to god maybe some PTA mom would notice her dilemma and call animal control or some shit.

As Roxy takes quick glances behind her she sees that, yep, that fucker is still chasing her. She notices a bright green leash waving behind the dog and realizes that there’s probably some poor schmuck looking for their goddamn dog now.

She continues at top speed down the impossibly large development trying to figure out what the hell she’s gonna do now that she’s a) starting to lose steam b) morally obligated to return this goddamn dog and c) kinda sorta really lost.

Sweat drips down her forehead and her breathing is heavy as she tries in vain to think up a half-decent game plan.

The trees start whizzing by slower and slower and Roxy starts to accept her fate. She decides that when she thinks she can’t go any further she’ll hop a fence into someone’s backyard. A little B&E isn’t that bad.

She turns a curve onto what she recognizes as Elm street and could shout from relief. She’s only half a mile from home.  
Half a mile of uphill riding.

“Oh my effing God this is how I die.” Roxy laments to herself as her legs scream profanities at the speed she was keeping up.

She looks around her once more and there’s still a good fifteen feet between her and what she now recognizes as a stark white Newfie. The fucker’s still flying down the street in a way that shows he’s not nearly as tired as she is.

“I need to step my goddamn biking game up.” Roxy scans the passing houses for a fence that’d be easy to jump and sees the first person outside since she’s gone on this godforsaken bike ride.

It’s some guy that looks about her age sitting on his generic front porch in a Ghost Busters shirt.

Roxy Lalonde officially has no fucks left to give as she skids to a halt in front of his driveway.

He looks up at her with deer-caught-in-the-headlights eyes and has a really goofy surprised look on his face as the out of breath girl speaks.

“Thanks in advance man,” she gasps for air, “I really owe you.”

Roxy then proceeds to vault herself over his white picket fence into his yard, discarding her backpack in the process.

“Wait a minute, what the fuck!?” He stands up from his porch and is about to probably yell at her and kick her out. But then he’s completely cut short as Roxy’s furry nightmare comes into view.

Roxy lies on his grass breathing raggedly as she attempts to explain. “That fucking dog has been chasing me.” She doesn’t really compute that he’s not paying attention to her as he rushes over to the fence. 

“Holy shit, Becquerel!” 

And then this fucker opens the gate wide open and this dog rushes to Roxy’s side and starts tearing into straight into her-

Backpack.

Her backpack.

The backpack that had the steak in it.  
Part of her wants to jump that dog and reclaim her 30 bucks worth of meat, but the rest of her decides to just let it happen.  
Roxy stares glumly at Becquerel as he gladly enjoys his raw meat. “Your dog just sprinted after me for a good mile and a half for a couple of steaks.”

The guy finally addresses Roxy’s presence again and starts spouting apologies for how he’s singlehandedly managed to fuck up her entire day.

“Oh, shit I’m so sorry. He never listens to me and I couldn’t catch him after he ran off he’s not even my fucking dog my cousin wanted me to walk him for her and since he’s a spiteful jerk he decides to run off and,” he looks down at her on the ground and sheepishly offers a hand out, “Can I help you up…?”

Roxy sighs wearily and lets him pull her up from his perfectly clipped and surprisingly comfortable lawn. “Thanks. My legs legit feel like soggy noodles.”

He laughs a bit and glances back at Bec embarrassedly as the dog happily finishes his meal. “Well, considering how bad I’ve messed up your day it’s no biggie, um…” he pauses, “Sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Roxy. It’s been shitty circumstances but I guess it’s nice to meet you too, uh,” she glances over to the mailbox, “Anonymous Egbert.

He laughs again and you take note of the wicked buck teeth that peek out whenever he does so.

“It’s John,” he pauses for a second before going back into apology mode, “And I’m totally going to replace those steaks for you. And maybe let you inside to get water or something…?”

“Omg, yes fucking please.” Roxy felt like she could kiss him then and there. Wait no what the hell. That’s weird she just met him and she’s super sweaty and gross and-

Roxy snaps back to attention as John opens up the door for her and lets her in.

“Ok, so the only thing is that my dad isn’t home and if he finds out I let a random girl who hopped our fence inside we’re probably in for a really uncomfortable talk. So yeah, we should probably make this quick.”

Roxy snorts at his wording that he doesn’t make much effort to correct and follows John into his kitchen, helping herself to a seat at his dinning room table.

John grabs a mug from the dishwasher opens up the fridge. “Do you want juice or water?”

“Waters fine, idc.” Roxy takes in the whole room and it’s pretty much as generic as the outside of the house, save a couple of clown statues littered about. John hands Roxy a novelty Cirque du Soliel mug that she accepts gratefully and quickly downs.

She sets down the mug in the sink before turning back to him. “I like the whole clown aesthetic you have going on. They add character to this place.”

Roxy can’t say she expected anything different that the groan and roll of the eyes she received.

“Agh. I don’t even know why my dad has so many of those statues everywhere…”  
“Hahaha no you have no idea my mom is literally the same way. But with like wizards instead. It’s not that bad though bc wizards are bomb af.”

“Wizards, huh?” John looks at Roxy with buck teeth peeking out from his half-grin, 

“Well I guess our parents have something in common. With uncommon tastes in statues I mean.”

“Yep,” Roxy gives the kitchen a final look around, “Well I guess I should be heading out now…”

Johns eyes flick to the clock on the oven, “Shit, yeah you probably should.“ He opens up his fridge and pokes around for a few seconds and Roxy assumes he’s probably getting her some more steak. 

“Okay, this is kinda weird, but hear me out, though.”

“Alright…?” Roxy raises an eyebrow mildly suspiciously. Oh man, she really hopes he isn’t packing human flesh or some weird shit. John seems kinda cute and cannibalism would totally ruin that.

Thankfully, he doesn’t pull out any body parts from the fridge. What he does pull out is a perfectly generic cake, complete with a bag of icing on the side to write stuff on it.

“I’m really sorry about your steak but I guess this is the best I have to sorta replace it,” he sets it down on the counter and takes up the piping bag, “I hope your mom doesn’t get mad.”

All of a sudden this entire situation strikes Roxy as really kinda absurd and she bursts out laughing. “I’m taking my mom home an Apology Cake. This is literally unreal.“ 

John has an unsure look on his face. “Unreal in a good way or a bad way? I can borrow your bike honestly and go to the supermarket I mean we’d probably both end up in some sort of trouble but I-”

Roxy cuts him off with a wave of her hand, “John, no this is perfect. Your cake is perfect. Let’s pipe this baby so we can get going already. I have a metric shit ton of explaining to do to my mom already.”

–

John had volunteered to actually ride the bike back to Roxy’s house much to her relief. She was pretty positive her legs would form a worker’s union and go on strike if she even bothered trying to pedal herself and her cake home.

So Roxy sits precariously on the handlebars with the cake in her lap, using sheer willpower to keep that cake from topping into the pavement.

After a couple of minutes of “shit don’t drop the cake”, “John watch the fucking road!”, and “well I can’t really see with you sitting in front of me like this!”, the two of them pull into the driveway and hop off the bike.  
Roxy lets it drop onto the pavement with an indifferent huff, and starts the death march towards her front porch.

She’s an hour late, brought no meat to speak of, and with random boy carrying a cake that read “SORRY ABOUT THE STEAK. WE CAN EXPLAIN” in swirly blue lettering.

“I guess you can do the honors.” Roxy gestures to the doorbell and John hesitates for a moment before ringing it. The sound vaguely reminds the both of them of funeral chimes. 

A moment or two passes before her mom opens up the door with a confused look on her face. And in that moment or two, Roxy Lalonde has a gut feeling that though it’s the first, this certainly won’t be the last apology cake John’s gonna end up bringing to her mom.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last johnroxy fic I have saved up. So posting is definitely gonna be slower but I have a couple wips :)


End file.
